


Something Like a Phenomenon

by inkillusions



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-12
Updated: 2011-11-12
Packaged: 2017-10-26 00:11:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/276401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inkillusions/pseuds/inkillusions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John tries to play it cool about Ronon. And he fails. Miserably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Like a Phenomenon

It wasn't as if Sheppard was trying to hide his, um...admiration for Ronon. Hell, there'd be no way that he would be able to do that anyway.

"Did you see the way that he did that?"

"You see how fast he moves?"

"You see how he avoids using utensils in favor of eating with his fingers?"

Alright, so he didn't say that last one to anyone, though it did cross his mind.

John didn't really feel that he had to try and play it cool, so when Ronon did something like kick the asses of many men (Marines!) at once, he grinned. Hell, he beamed. And when Ronon pulled out his intergalactic blaster and blew a whole through the gut of the paper target, he could have grabbed him and kissed him.

Well, maybe that didn't have to do with just the blaster.

Everyone noticed of course, and they'd cast strange looks in his direction when he would comment on some other feat of Ronon's strength, ability, or agility. Ronon, on the other hand, seemed oblivious to it all. He took it all in stride, not influenced one way or another by John's responses to his actions and that was a good thing. Maybe he wouldn't want to have so much attention heaped on him by John. He'd had more than enough attention for seven years by the Wraith who chased him relentlessly. Maybe he just wanted to blend in with everyone else. Well, as best as he possibly could.

Shit. He hadn't thought about that.

The last thing that John Sheppard wanted was to get on the bad side of Mr. Dex. He didn't relish the thought of being one of the bodies flung like a rag doll onto the mat - or against a wall depending on how far on Ronon's bad side he would find himself.

From now on, John would play it totally cool when it came to Ronon Dex.

Of course there was such a thing as too little, too late.

The knock on John's door late one night startled him and he dreaded getting up, knowing it could only be bad news that awaited him on the other side. He got out of bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and opened the door, surprised to find Ronon standing on the other side.

"Ronon? What's wrong?"

"Couldn't sleep."

Ronon leaned against the doorway, folding his arms and all John could think about was how it would hurt like hell to have his neck crushed between the powerful bicep and forearm.

"Um, so you decided you didn't want me to sleep either?"

Ronon smiled - almost - and walked past John into his quarters. John closed the door and turned to face his late-night visitor, wondering what on earth could have brought him around at this hour.

"Something on your mind, Ronon?" His voice was calm and steady.

_Way to go, John._

He knew that he had it together and there wasn't anything Ronon could say to cause him to lose his cool demeanor...

"I see how you look at me."

To say that hearing those words was unexpected would be like saying that Ronon wasn't very forthcoming. That would be a total and complete understatement and John prayed for control over his muscles so his jaw wouldn't go slack and hit the floor right in front of his guest.

_Remember - Cool, John. Fake it till you make it._

"What do you mean the way I look at you?"

John tried not to cringe over the fact that his voice cracked like a fourteen year-old boy going through puberty. He really had to get himself together around this guy.

Ronon, on the other hand, seemed his usual unaffected self, his eyes seeming strangely bright.

"I look at you too."

Oh.

"Oh."

Ronon walked past him again, his bare arm brushing against John's briefly. John shuddered at the contact and turned to watch him exit, stunned at the admission that he'd just heard. He was even more stunned to find Ronon had stopped in the doorway, his back to him.

"The mats at seven," the words came out slowly and Ronon quickly turned to face John again, waiting for a response.

"Um, yeah. Just - take it easy on me."

The smile this time was unmistakable.

"Is that an order?"

Not giving John a chance to answer, Ronon turned and walked down the hallway, taking long strides as he quickly disappeared around the corner.

John didn't close his door until he could no longer hear the heavy footfalls in the corridor. He sat down on his bed, replaying the conversation that had just taken place.

There was no way he'd ever get to sleep tonight.

~fin


End file.
